


Confabulation

by KittyFartingBubbles



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyFartingBubbles/pseuds/KittyFartingBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is trembling now and Jackson is most definitely tearing up.</p><p>"You were there. Then you were not."</p><p> </p><p>Confabulation is defined as the production of fabricated or misinterpreted memories about oneself or the world, the person is unaware the information is false and the memories maybe coherent and relatively normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confabulation

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat open ending but still happy-ish, non resolved issues, messy plotline, abrupt ending. I just love the mess this ended up to be, it's probably full of plot holes, and it may not make entirely sense, but I still liked it, I hope you also enjoy it. In the end it's up to your interpretation if they ended up together or not.

 

  
It was raining hard, the water hitting with force against the walls of his house, the wind hollowing outside, only instead of bothering him, the sound calmed him, Jackson always liked the rain, it was like welcoming an old friend home after a few days by himself, it could be overwhelming, but it also could be fond.

 

He was getting ready to bed, had just finished brushing his teeth when a knock sounds on the door, he froze, brows furrowed, hand on the light switch, waiting to see if it was just noise or someone was indeed outside with this weather. The knock sounded again, this time more urgent and strong.

 

He opens the door at the same time that a lightning lit up the dark sky and watches Mark flinch at the sudden light. Jackson waits for the other to look up at him, not making a sound and taking the opportunity to take a good look at Mark. When Mark does look up, Jackson sees a bandage covering his forehead, dark blood evident behind it. He reaches a hand, yanking Mark inside, closing the door with his foot and seating him on the floor, back against the couch.

 

"What happened?" He asks, his voice almost cracking in the middle of the sentence.

 

Mark lick his lips, and brings a casted arm to his head, his fingers dancing over the bandage. Now that Jackson really looks at him, he can see the bruise covering his cheek, expanding throughout his eye and disappearing beneath the bandage.

 

"I had an accident." Mark answers, looking at him in the eye. Jackson tries to keep his gaze, but whenever he looks at Mark he reminds himself how bad they were to each other, how toxic they were together, the relationship was poisonous, they hurt one another constantly, the simplest of the actions was enough to make them fight, spitting words that would be regretted only a few seconds later.

 

So Jackson nods, he does that because there is nothing more he can do. In the end, they were so afraid of themselves, of what they could do and tell each other, that it simply happened. Mark stopped touching him, Jackson stopped answering calls, Mark no longer appeared to whatever they had planned, Jackson no more told him he loved him. They drifted apart, because Jackson could not hear Mark's cries any longer and it was getting harder and harder to reach a hand whenever he wanted something. So Mark slipped through his fingers, slowly and painfully.

 

"My head hurts," Mark is nudging him with his socked and wet foot, his shoes laying in a mess when he kicked them out, Jackson was not sure when that happened, but the puddles of water under them made him thought that he should get something dry for Mark to wear.

 

"Yeah, looks like you hit your head pretty bad." He gets up from the floor, patting Mark  on the thigh, curling his hands into fists, because they were no longer anything at all. No more Mark and Jackson, Jackson and Mark. They were Mark Tuan. They were Jackson Wang. No, _he_ was Jackson Wang. _Mark_ was Mark Tuan. _They_ do not exist, not anymore.

 

He shoves the ice against Mark's cheek, a mumbled _sorry_ parting his lips when the other winces at the pressure. They were so good together, before that is, before. They were happy, they loved and cared for each other, what changed? Actually, when did it change? The more he thinks about it, the more Jackson cannot see why are they not still together. Sure things were bad, but not everything was.

 

It was bliss waking up next to Mark on the bed, seeing the small crinkles in his eyes, the adorable way he scrunched up his nose when Jackson woke him up too early. Mark dancing in the kitchen, brandishing a spatula when Jackson tried to put his finger on the pancake mixture. The mumbled promises of endless love, those were still true, though, he still loved Mark, and Mark was going to be _it_ for Jackson. Just like Jackson was _it_ for Mark. Or had it been. Or maybe it still was.

 

"I don't remember some stuff. My head is a mess," Mark lets out as if he is afraid of the words leaving his mouth. No, Mark should not be afraid to speak his mind. That was why, or maybe just one of the reasons they were not _they_ no more. Mark was constantly afraid and so was Jackson. And now this, more crap to pile up, was Mark telling him that he had an accident and suffered some kind of memory loss?

 

"What?" Jackson asks because he doesn't know what else to do.

 

"It's called confabulation." Mark takes a deep breath and his eyes are full of tears, his voice so rough and hurt that Jackson just wants to hug him, to comfort him, promise Mark that he is here and always will be. "The doctors says it is common for people with amnesia to have made up memories that seemed true to them. I don't know what is real anymore."

 

Jackson rest a hand on Mark's shoulder, and Mark reaches for his hand, lacing them together, the gentleness and care behind the act make Jackson's breath itch. "How do you know who I am? Where I live?"

 

"Because the last thing I remember we were together. Then I woke up in the hospital and we were not. Together, I mean. Jackson, I don't know what to think. Were we real? No, do not answer that, I know we were." Mark swallows and Jackson can imagine the lump in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes, the tears wanting to fall and he not letting them.

 

He squeezes Mark's. "Oh," Jackson says, trying to put himself in Mark's shoes and failing. He is not even capable of imagining how it is to wake up alone and scared on the hospital, having some of your memories being fake. How must he feel when the doctors tell him that maybe Jackson is part of his imagination? Only that Mark found him, he found Jackson.

 

"I don't think they are made up." Mark nods, stopping the action when it hurts his injured head. "You wanted to marry me. You proposed to me in this couch, after we were done eating take out, in the middle of a marathon of horrible movies that we made every weekend."

 

Mark is trembling now and Jackson is most definitely tearing up.

 

"You were there. Then you were not."

 

Jackson hugs Mark to his chest, trying to block his sobs of _you were not there anymore_ , with his own mumbles. He misses Mark so much, he aches for the other, he waited for Mark to contact him, he didn't, so Jackson didn't either.

 

"The doctors told me  they can be a lie, but those memories are real. They are, I know they are. They feel to real not to be. They hurt too much."

 

Jackson leans on the couch, bringing Mark with me, the others head on his chest, his still labored breathing hot against Jackson flimsy sleeping shirt. He laces a hand on soft hair strands, rubbing Mark's scalp softly, careful of his bruises. They stay like that for the longest time and when Mark's is sleeping, Jackson does not, he watches over him, taking note of how happy he is the other his here, but also how his chest hurts.

 

Jackson's phone is ringing and makes him jerk from his thoughts. He lays still for  a few seconds, afraid of waking up Mark, the phone is too loud and is making his head throb. He answers it with a grunt, not managing anything else, his other hand still on Mark's head, playing with his hair again.

 

" _Is Mark with you?_ " Jaebum asks immediately, not wasting time.

 

"Yeah."

 

" _How is he?_ "

 

Jackson thinks of something to say, he really does, but it comes out blank.

 

" _Don't fuck up this time, once was already bad enough_."

 

Jaebum disconnects the call after a few seconds without an answer. Jackson throws his phone onto the coffee table. He watches Mark sleep for some more, enchanted by the swift up and down of his rib cage. Passing a finger on the other lips. If only they could have what they had, if only they could go back in time.

 

"They are." He whispers. He waits for Mark to move, to react, but he is still sleeping and Jackson's chest is heavy again, because how could they tell Mark those memories were not real? Why make him suffer like that? Had they not had enough already? They had but even hurt Mark came to him for comfort, that had to mean something.

 

He needs to tell Mark, he needs the other to know that they are not made up memories of his active brain. Mark may not remember some stuff, but he sure as hell remembers where they were together.

 

Jackson shakes Mark awake, watching the other blinking slowly, his nose scrunching up cutely and Jackson gets it now, this was their second chance. So he smiles through his tears, he did not know he was crying and smiles. "They are real."

 

His eyes do not leave Mark for a moment, marveled by the emotions passing on his face, the itch of his breath, the trembling of his hands. He looks back at Jackson, cleans his eyes with his hoodie and smiles at him too. "Yes."

 

 

  
_Yes, I will marry you._

 

 

 

_The end_

 


End file.
